


When have I pitied anyone?

by thatskindaweird



Series: Johnlock Trope Challenge [1]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-04
Updated: 2014-06-04
Packaged: 2018-02-03 09:05:28
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 772
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1739027
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thatskindaweird/pseuds/thatskindaweird
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Day 2 challenge for the Johnlock Trope Challenge<br/>http://johnlocktropechallenge.tumblr.com/</p><p>"It’s Love, not Pity"</p>
            </blockquote>





	When have I pitied anyone?

**Author's Note:**

> This has been quickly thrown together to meet a deadline. I hope you enjoy anyway. I don't own the characters but I wish I did.

Sherlock’s mood had been even blacker than usual for the last few days. John may not have had the same level of skill when it came to deduction as his flatmate but even he could tell something had set him off recently. John apprehensively approached the door to Sherlocks room and knocked. After no answer John took it upon himself to assume an open invitation and crept into the room. 

Sherlock was honest to goodness asleep. He was also completely naked. If there was any proof that life wasn’t fair it was that Sherlock couldn't hear him banging on the door but the barely whispered “Fuck” was enough to wake him. Sherlock grumbled awake for a moment to snarkily ask if John liked what he saw.  
Two days later John had almost forgotten that he had seen his flatmate completely nude and that he also apparently liked it. A lot. He now knew that he had been a fool to believe that Sherlock hadn’t noticed whatever signs he thought meant that John was aroused. Sherlock was sitting across the table looking at him with what could only be described as the world’s most terrifying ‘come hither’ look.

It was supposed to be a joke, it really was, but the way it came out definitely sounded more like desperation: “Are you trying to seduce me, Sherlock Holmes?” Sherlock snorted and looked away while flailing his hand in a dismissive motion, “Why would you think that, John?” A moment more of silence than would strictly be considered comfortable passed before John got up the nerve to say “Because you know I liked what I saw.” All of the steel reserve in Sherlocks face melted away and he seemed to be grasping for something to say. John figured he had been more forward than the younger man had assumed he would be and he was spurred on by the fact that he was able to render Sherlock speechless. 

He walked over and ran his fingers gently through the unruly curls that had tempted him many times in the past. “John, don’t”, it sounded pleading. Realizing he may have misread the situation John turned bright red and tried to think of an exit plan. How can he play it off as a joke? There had to be a way.  
Sherlock took Johns hand in his and pressed a soft, almost nonexistent kiss to the palm. Sherlock maintained eye contact as he continued to press slight kisses to John’s wrist. “You don’t have to try to make this OK Sherlock. I…I made a mistake. I know that you don’t do this, you aren't interested.”  
“What if I do want you John?” the question seemed earnest, but Sherlock usually only seemed earnest when he was trying to fool someone into doing something for him. “What if I want to keep you here for myself. What if I wanted to let you get all that distraction and frustration out, what if I wanted to let you do anything to me that you wanted?” John recoiled, he was suddenly certain he really understood what was going on now. Sherlock knew he had been striking out on dates and he figured that a sexless John was a useless John, distracted and unfocused. Sherlock saw that John may be willing the other day and now he was going to use it because he pitied him.

“I don’t need a pity fuck Sherlock.” It sounded more crass than he had intended, he really couldn't think of a time where an invitation to bed (to anything he wanted) had sounded so much like an insult. “A pity fuck?” Sherlock had moved out of his chair and stood beside John, leaning down slightly to nip at his ear as he spoke into it. “When have you ever known me to show pity to anyone?” The question was punctuated with a brief brush of lips across John’s neck. “I’ve wanted you for a very long time, not the whole time of course, but a very large chunk of it. I did notice you were turned on the other night when you came into my room and I have been spending the past few days trying to think of a way to cross that line and see how far you were willing to go. I never thought you would be willing to experiment with me.”

“I’m not an experiment Sherlock.” John tried to sound unwavering in his resolve as Sherlock continued to nip at his neck and ear between sentences. Sherlock pinned/straddled John against the wall, “Everything in life is an experiment, my dear Watson.”


End file.
